A funny thing happened while watching Coco.
There I was watching the finale of a good story when out of nowhere tears began flowing from my eyes. The strangest thing is, up until that point, I would have never expected to get teary-eyed for Coco—and yet here I was crying, and it baffles me to no end. Coco is a good film with beautiful animation, but it’s also somewhat predictable, formulaic, and recycles plot devices from films before it. I do not consider Coco anything spectacular or magnificent, and yet, at that one point, the film connected with me on a very emotional, personal level. When a story can accomplish such, even for just a moment, then it has succeeded in doing something very special.
Coco tells the story of the Rivera family, focused on their youngest member, 12-year old Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez). The Riveras have had a long-standing hatred for music ever since Miguel’s great-great-grandfather left his wife Imelda (Alanna Ubach) and daughter Coco (Ana Ofelia Murguía) to become a musician. Miguel, however, loves music, and soon discovers that his great-great-grandfather was none other than Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt)—a famous musician Miguel already revered. After a harsh fight with his family, Miguel runs away from home and steals Cruz’s guitar from his coffin, planning to use it at a talent show for the Day of the Dead. Yet when Miguel plays the guitar, he is transported to the spirit realm, becoming invisible/intangible to those alive and capable of seeing/interacting with the dead. Miguel finds his deceased family members, who take him to the Land of the Dead to figure out why Miguel has been “cursed”.
The animation in Coco is absolutely gorgeous—some of the best modern-day animation created. It’s fluent, colorful, expressive, rich in beauty and massive in scope. Stuff is constantly happening all around, both in the foreground and background. A pause of the film could reveal a dozen activities occurring behind the main plot, yet such activities never distract from what’s occurring up front. Coco’s premise lets the animators get creative with their bony characters. The dead’s skeleton bodies allow for fluent, fast-paced animation. There’s a variety of lively, comedic possibilities utilized here—detached arms dancing with each other, eyeballs bouncing out of their sockets, jaws literally dropping. Skeleton bodies also allow the animators to get away with a lot of inappropriate jokes, such as one female skeleton posing nude for a painting (Miguel taking a brief moment to realize what’s happening before quickly averting his eyes) and another rather voluptuous one shaking her…chest bones to suggestive noises. Coco’s humor, in general, is quite adult-subtle, such as when the character Héctor (Gael García Bernal) sings a song about a beautiful woman, only to alter the lyrics when realizing Miguel is listening; “Her…knuckles drag down to the floor.” I got a kick out of how entering the Land of the Dead here is equivalent to a theme park entry, and exiting it is as difficult as boarding an airplane.
Coco’s plot path becomes fairly obvious much earlier than what appears to be intended. As soon as a certain character starts interacting with Miguel—long before any real hints are given—it became clear as day who they really were. There are also plot points that feel rushed and formulaic, such as how swiftly two characters rekindle their relationship and how the main antagonist’s defeat uses several, previously-better handled tropes from past animated films such as Cats Don’t Dance, and Pixar’s own Monsters, Inc.. Yet, as mentioned above, Coco made me cry during its second to last scene. The scene goes to show how sometimes it’s the simplest, most straightforward moments that can hit us at our most vulnerable and emotional. Coco is not what I consider an overall great film, but it still succeeds at what it sets out to accomplish, doing so in a pleasing, humorous, emotional, and visibly beautiful manner. It’s certainly one of Pixar’s better films of the 2010s, and their last film since Toy Story 3 to really connect with me on a personal level.